No. 21 Montmorency Street, within a room of dieval style filled with an aura of the bizarre, Dracula lounged comfortably by the window, gently swirling the wine glass in his hand.
"So, a lot of interesting things happened while I was asleep for a hundred years?" He took a small sip of the crimson liquid, musing.
"Global wizarding war, the love and hate entanglents of two genius wizards, an intriguing magical creature expert and his Muggle friend, a terrifying Dark Lord... Damn it! How many fascinating events have I missed in my century of slumber?"
He then turned his gaze to the elderly man before him and asked, sowhat irritably:
"Old man, why didn't you wake up?"
Standing before Dracula was an old man with white hair and a face full of wrinkles, looking at him with helplessness.
"You never told where your coffin was hidden. How was I supposed to wake you?" the old man replied.
Dracula glanced silently at the large crystal ball on the workbench by the window and couldn't help but curl his lip.
"We've known each other for centuries, and I still don't know you? I think you were just afraid I'd join forces with that Grindelwald guy!" Dracula downed the remaining wine in his glass and added, "Otherwise, your divination skills must be pretty useless."
At this mont, another elderly woman with white hair approached, refilling Dracula's glass with a rich red wine, and said with a smile:
"After not seeing each other for a hundred years, it's understandable not to be moved to tears, but why start arguing right away?"
"Perennelle, you ca just in ti. Judge this for us," Dracula thanked her and then, picking up his glass again, complained, "Do you think this old man Nicolas did it on purpose, making miss so many interesting things."
Perennelle Flal just smiled without comnting.
"Alright, alright, I knew you'd complain, so I found you a new interesting place to be," Nicolas Flal, seemingly guilty, said with a smile.
Dracula, about to raise his glass, paused mid-air and turned to look at him.
"In recent years, there's been a phenonon at Hogwarts that I think you'll be interested in," Nicolas continued. "It's said that the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is cursed by a Dark Lord, and for fifty years, no professor has lasted more than a year in that role."
Looking at Dracula's expression, Nicolas teased, "How about it? Would the legendary Count Dracula be afraid of such a curse?"
A knowing smile slowly spread across Dracula's lips.
"Interesting."
With a clatter, Dracula slamd the wine glass onto the windowsill.
He then pushed open the window beside him and stepped onto the window fra.
"Nicolas, Perennelle, we'll et again!" Dracula turned to the Flals, who had yet to react, and cheerfully bid them farewell.
The next mont, he leaped from Nicolas' window.
Accompanied by a flurry of bats, Dracula's figure vanished into the night sky, leaving only the blood-red wine in the glass swaying on the windowsill.
The reflected moon in the wine turned crimson, shining brightly.
The Flals stood there, bewildered, exchanging glances.
"Is he not even staying for a al?" Perennelle asked, half-amused.
"You should know Dracula by now," Nicolas shook his head slightly and sighed, "He's always been like this. If he finds sothing interesting, he'll go for it no matter what."
"After all, a thousand years is a long, dull ti..."
...
In the still of the night, a towering castle stood firm against the backdrop.
The castle's spires rose high, with countless windows lit, mingling with the stars above. The distant rising dawn added a purple-red hue to the castle's edges, enhancing its mysterious grandeur.
In the brightly lit headmaster's office at Hogwarts, Dracula, clad in black and red robes, appeared silently by the window, surveying the room.
The once lazy phoenix, feeling his presence, flapped its wings and warily perched on the shoulder of an elderly white-haired man before the desk.
The tall, slender man, dressed in a purple wizard's robe, had silver hair and a beard long enough to be tucked into his belt.
Seeing the uninvited guest, he seed unsurprised. He gently stroked the phoenix Fawkes to calm its nervousness.
Then he looked at Dracula, smiling and gesturing to the several cups on the table.
"Good morning, Count Dracula. Nicolas often ntioned you," he said, as if greeting an old friend. "Tea, juice, or coffee?"
Dracula frowned at the drinks before him and lightly shook his head.
"No need." He pulled out the chair in front of the desk and sat down, addressing the old man, "You must be Albus Dumbledore, the current headmaster of Hogwarts?"
Dumbledore smiled and nodded.
Simultaneously, he rummaged through the desk drawer, eventually pulling out a blood-red lollipop.
"I almost forgot, vampires probably don't like these ordinary drinks." He handed the lollipop to Dracula, cheerfully adding, "Try this! A blood-flavored lollipop from Honeydukes' Sweet Treat Pack. You might like it."
Dracula's mouth twitched as he looked at the lollipop.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, I'm here to discuss sothing very important. Please take this seriously," he said, decisively refusing the lollipop and producing a parchnt filled with complex runes from his pocket.
"This is the deed to Hogwarts. Salazar Slytherin set a thousand-year lease starting in 991 AD, and this year, 1991, marks the end of that lease."
"Headmaster, the lease on Hogwarts is up!" Dracula smirked. "You wouldn't want the students to be holess, would you?"
Dumbledore's face showed a brief mont of surprise, then returned to his usual calm.
Adjusting his glasses, he took the parchnt and examined it closely.
From Dumbledore's perspective, he could see the magical energy identical to that of the castle, along with the signatures of the four founders, confirming its authenticity beyond doubt.
Considering Dracula's age and his rumored connection to Slytherin, Dumbledore had to acknowledge the deed's legitimacy.
"Count Dracula, I hear you were great friends with the four founders," he said, trying to soften the situation. "Hogwarts was their pride and joy. You wouldn't just take it back, would you?"
"That depends on your performance." Dracula leaned back in his chair, chuckling. "If you can find sothing interesting, maybe I'll extend the deadline a bit."
"That can be arranged," Dumbledore sighed with relief, pulling out a prepared letter from his desk. "We have an opening for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The position has seen nurous professors leave due to various misfortunes over the past fifty years. Perhaps, Count Dracula, you might find it intriguing."
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